Just a Servant
by Gandalf3213
Summary: An incident in a town brings up a fact Arthur had long tried to ignore: his kingdom had a deep-seated prejudice against servants. More than that, Merlin had been involved in this cycle of abuse under Arthur's nose and he hadn't noticed. What can a king do when presented with such issues?
1. Sticks

**_Will:_**_ Why are you defending him so much? You're just his servant.  
**Merlin: **He's also my friend.  
**Will: **Is that so? So he knows your secret then? Face it, Merlin. You're Arthur's servant, nothing more. Otherwise you'd tell him the truth._

.***.

The town, so small it didn't really have a name, had welcomed them graciously the night before. They'd scraped together a decent meal, which was made into a good meal when the knights supplimented it with the rations they had left over from their trip. More than that, Petyr, the leader of the village, insisted on giving Arthur his bed, and the hay and blankets in the barn far surpassed the hard ground the knights had been sleeping on...

"You know, Merlin," Arthur said as the servant helped take his armor off. The room was small and bare, but the bed was soft and covered in warm-looking wools. Arthur had pressed a purse of gold coins into Petyr's hand before going up to the room, and left before the leader could insist on giving it back. "I think we've actually had a week where nothing went wrong. Usually it seems like we face weekly dilemas like clockwork."

Merlin knocked on the wood table without thinking and Arthur, as he always did, laughed incredulously. "You still keep to peasant superstitions?"

"Maybe my knocking on wood is the only thing that's kept you alive this long." Merlin grumbled, blushing to the tips of his ears.

"Heaven knows it wasn't you keeping me alive." Arthur said, swinging his arms, newly freed from the armor. He yawned, stretching. "You sleeping in the barn with the others?"

"I think Gwaine has found a maiden to share a bed with." Merlin said, and Arthur chuckled.

"At least someone is having fun." He raised an eyebrow at his servant. "You haven't found a girl to," he coughed, "share a bed with?"

"Who one of the serving girls?" Merlin asked, laughing a little too, "And when could I lie with them? The hour between polishing your armor and watering your horses I mean to spend sleeping." Merlin shook his head and left the room, still laughing. Arthur watching him go, for some reason not finding it very funny.

The next morning was barely a spot on the horizon when the shouts started. Arthur was up, reaching for his sword even as he listened for the timbre of his knight's voices. Especially Gwaine and Elyan, the most hot-headed of the bunch.

And he did recognize one, rasied high and pleading with someone to stop. And Arthur flew out of the room at the sound of Merlin's voice, cursing himself, as he did weekly, for not teaching his servant some self-defense.

"What's going on?" Arthur demanded, emerging from the house even as he was still fastening his cloak.

There was a small circle of newly-awakened townspeople. The Camelot knights were scattered throughout - Arthur noticed, in his quick survey, Gwaine standing next to a small red-head. And in the middle was Petyr, the leader of the villiage, holding a boy. Merlin was just scrambling to his feet next to them.

"I'm so sorry, sire." Petyr said, sounding sincerely contrite. "We just have a small problem to solve. I was hoping if it happened in the early hours of the morning we woudln't disturb your sleep with the small problems of our town."

"What exactly is going on? Explain it, quickly."

"I caught my servant stealing. Caught him red-handed. I was just going to serve justice, as is my right as leader of this town." Petyr kept his words even, though there was a note warning beneath them.

"And what justice is that?" Arthur asked, wishing he were more awake, wishing they could just have a week of peace.

Petyr looked confused. "Death. I would've made it painless, sire, but we can't allow thieving servants in our midst. It's not our way."

Arthur really wished he was more awake for this.

He took a step forward, and now it was his turn to be confused. "You're going to kill a boy for stealing?" He looked past the man to Merlin, whose face was red and swollen. It would bruise later. "And what happened to you?"

"He tried to stop the hand of justice, sire." Petyr said, keeping a firm grip on the boy in his hands. At Arthur's face, which must have been murderous, he shrugged his shoulders and said, "he's just a servant."

"That's it," Gwaine growled, pulling himself free of the firl and pulling his sword. "Only the king has the power to decree life and death."

"This is the way things have always been." Petyr said, and Arthur was surprised and appalled to see all the townspeople nodding.

"If our leader didn't dispense justice, there would be chaos." Someone murmured, and there were more nods.

Arthur whirled around. He caught Leon's eyes. Leon, who had always had the answer, who looked as bewildered as Arthur felt. Elyan looked angry - his sister was a servant, wasn't she? Percival looked sad. Arthur turned back to Petyr. "Would you kill your brother without trial?"

"My brother owns his own house and land." Petyr said, "This boy never will."

Merlin, still in the middle of the circle, near enough to Petyr to do something reckless, looked like he was about to do something reckless. Arthur shook his head, just a little, and motioned Merlin back. The servant reluctantly did as he was told and stepped back into the circle next to Percival, who squeezed his shoulder and jerked up Merlin's chin. He asked a question and Merlin answered, looking at the ground. When Percival -mild-mannered, quiet Percival - looked up again, his face was murderous.

It could so quickly go wrong. Arthur couldn't very well try to fight his own people, and he knew that was what would happen if he stepped in the way of the "justice" of this place. But he couldn't let the boy die. There was something he remembered a tutor telling him when he was very young, when he still had tutors...something about Might not making Right, about lords standing up for their people.

"I apologize for my servant's interuption," Arthur said, steadfastly not looking at Merlin, "But I'm afraid I have the same qualms he had with your execution of my justice. You cannot seriously mean to kill a child?"

"There can be no exception to the rule, "Petyr said, sounding truly sorry, "But it would be a clean death, done by my own hand. I do hold some fondness for the boy but - go on, Freddie. Tell the kind what I found you doing today."

Freddie was crying so hard that it was fifteen long seconds before he could force words through his tears. Then he nodded and choked out, "I was stealing - candlestick." He cringed away from the king, tugged his arm uselessly, and when he found he was still stuck he burst into fresh tears.

"Now that your servant has seen fit to humiliate the boy in addition to his sentance," Petyr said, shooting Merlin a look of loathing that Arthur didn't miss, "I will continue, if it pleases you sire."

It damn well did not please him, but Arthur was absolutely at a loss of what to do. He could tell Petyr that any dispensation of justice came through Camelot, but then he'd have to make the same proclamation to all the other towns in his kingdom, and risk being overwhelmed by people demanding a fair ruling.

But the punishment had to fit the crime, and as far as Arthur could see this was prejudice against the boy for being a servant. Arthur couldn't imagine such a thing, but he'd often been reminded that he lived in Camelot, which was in many ways more progressive than the villages under its rule. Villages whose people who seldom laid eyes on a king more than once a generation.

"You are right. Justice must be upheld, and I do not deny you your right. But this matter has already scandelized many of your people," He waved a hand at the people, who were thoroughly un-scandalized, "Why don't you hand the boy over to me? We have need of squires in Camelot."

Petyr seemed to like this a far sight more than he would have liked Arthur trying to take over his mode of justice, but still he wouldn't let go of the child's arm. "I'm afraid that will confuse Freddie, sire. Going to Camelot would be rewarding him for his crime."

"Our master of the house will see to it that he regrets his lapse of judgement." Arthur said, and saw Merlin cringe out of the corner of his eye. The master of the house was known for being strict to the point of cruelity, and had more than once given Merlin such a hiding that he hadn't been able to sit on a horse for a week.

In the end, the boy was given over to Arthur's care. The knights didn't linger long after that, getting their horses ready, saying a brief farewell to the strange small hamlet, and, with Freddie riding behind Leon, taking off into the untamed wilderness, more than happy to have their adventure of the week behind them.

"I've never seen anything like it," Arthur said, shaking his head. "Prejudice against magic I understand. Hatred of dragons and wyverns and trolls and ogres. But why hold a grudge against a man because he holds a position that is less than yours?"

"You really have to get out in the world, Arthur." Gwaine said, pulling up his horse next to the king's. "And not as the prince either. You'll never learn anything if people are falling over themselves to cater to your every need. The read world is grim, especially to servants. Tell him, Merlin."

"What?" Merlin said, smiling the smile that held a secret, "I don't know what you're talking about. I already have the worst master in the kingdom."

"Oh shut it, Merlin, at least I don't kill you for being a klutz."

"I'm not talking about our dear king," Gwaine said, raising a knowing eyebrow. "I'm talking about Lord Geofry."

"Gwaine!" Merlin squaked, unable to believe that his friend had betrayed a secret he'd told him in trust that it would never be revealed.

"Arthur's king now. He can do something to stop this madness." Gwaine reached across the gap between their horses and hit Merlin's arm, his unique way of showing affection. "Go on. Tell him what happened."

"Lord Geofry?" Arthur asked, turning to Merlin, bemused. "Who holds Redwall on the Southern border? The only time you were with him was -"

"Last year, when we went down to help with the giant wars." Merlin threw Gwaine a betrayed glance before launching into the story. "You rode out in the morning, but I stayed behind to help tend to the wounded."

"I remember," Arthur said slowly, turning over the memory in his mind. It had been an exhilerating fight, and they'd lost many men, but in the end it was Arthur and Lord Geofry's son together who brought down the raging giantess. "I remember when we got back you were bruised all over. You said you fell down the stairs."

"I did," Merlin said quickly, not wanting his friend to think him a liar. "I just...had some help in the fall."

Arthur turned around so fast his neck cracked. Rubbing it, he stared hard at Merlin. "What do you mean? Why didn't you tell me this before?"

Merlin shrugged, burying himself in his horse, hyper-aware of the fact that all the knights were staring at him. "I didn't want to make a fuss. It was a festive occassion."

"That's not what you told me," Gwaine said, "Or should I -"

"Be quiet, Gwaine." Merlin spat, irritated. "It was as I said."

For once, Gwaine took the order and was quiet, though he spurred his horse ahead to put some distance between himself and the others. Merlin tipped his face down in his cloak, remembering the night when he'd returned from Redwall and only Gwaine had a sympathetic ear, had helped him dress the cuts and listened as Merlin told him the whole truth. _"I was afraid Arthur wouldn't care," _Merlin had said in the dark room, drinking some of Gwaine's mead gratefully. _"I don't know what I would do if he didn't care."_

So instead of telling the truth and learning one way or the other whether the friendship he had with Arthur was all in his head or if the king truly cared for him, Merlin had made up a story and smiled as Arthur teased him about it for a week. The smile felt like a lie on his face, and he could see Gwaine shaking his head every time he was in earshot, but what could he do? If he told Arthur and the king just reminded him that he was a servant, and it was within Geofry's rights...

But now Arthur was rounding on him, furious, and pulled his horse until it lay across the road, blocking Merlin's way. Merlin's gelding whickered, annoyed, and bucked a little, and Merlin glared at his master. "Get out of my way."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Arthur demanded, "Truly, Merlin, how can I hope to run a kingdom if I can't even bring justice to my own servant?"

"Drop it, Arthur," Merlin said, knowing it was no use but spurring his horse up the hill and around Arthur anyway. Anything to avoid the moment of truth, anything to avoid this confrontation.

But he had barely spurred his horse into a trot when Arthur was at his side again, and seized his elbow. "Please, Merlin." And it was that, that tone of voice, that made Merlin realize that he could never really keep anything from Arthur. Because he may be blustering and he may chuck stuff at him first thing in the morning and he may make fun of him but there were those moments when Arthur would lower his voice and touch Merlin's shoulder and ask him if he was alright. And Merlin couldn't help but love him for that.

"I was afriad you wouldn't care." Merlin said, feeling silly now. He looked down at the ground, looked behind him at Leon, talking quietly to the boy they'd picked up in some little town. "That you would - you would side with Lord Geofry."

He chanced a glance at Arthur and wished he hadn't. The king's face was stormy. "I'm sorry." He said those two words so often they came as naturally as breathing. He didn't even know what he was apologizing for, really, unless it was not having enough faith in Arthur to do the right thing.

"Merlin." A hand on his arm again, grabbing, holding, pleading. "I will always take your side."

Merlin grinned a little at that, not about to deny the relief that spread like warm flames across his chest. "You shouldn't say that. We've faced so many different forms of evil. One day I might be corrupted."

"Not you, Merlin." Arthur said stoutly, "You're my constant." Arthur suddenly glanced around and noticed all the knights smirking at the two of them. His voice became gruff again, and Merlin smiled at his discomfort. "Now no more of this emotional stuff, okay? It's bad enough when I have to go through it for Guenivere."

"Oh, you have emotional conversations with Gwen?" Merlin said, "I would pay to see that."

"Shut up, Merlin." Arthur said, and this phrase was one that he said so often that, though the knights spread out across fifty yards in front and behind them couldn't hear the actual words, they heard the tone and knew what had been said, and exchanged smiles with each other.

They continued down the road to Camelot, and Gwaine struck up a song about a bear spotting a man in a tree, and Merlin remembered it and began singing, and so did Leon and Elyan and Percival and even little Freddie, his voice high and unwavering. Arthur did too, by the end, and the whole lot ended up laughing, putting the town and its troubles well and truly behind them.

...until later that night, when they made camp and Merlin was lying next to Arthur in the dark. "Do you really think I need to reform the laws governing the treatment of servants?" Arthur dispised anything to do with drafting and diplomacy, and would prefer fighting a battle if a few blows could solve the problem.

"I think you need to do what you think is right." Merlin said, chosing his words carefully, letting them lay on his tongue like flavors before spilling them out. "But I also know that Freddie isn't the only one judged more harshly because of his position."

"I've been in Camelot too long." Arthur said, and Merlin couldn't deny it. He hadn't meant to stay behind the high walls, but as much as Arthur hated diplomacy he was the king now, and had to send other knights out on the quests he so longed to join. This milk run to slay a rogue wyvern was the first time Arthur had ventured out in weeks.

But it wasn't that...it was his stature, his position. He'd been born not only a noble but a prince. Being judged based on who he was had never happened to him. Ever.

"I'm sorry for what Geofry did to you." Arthur's words were a mere breath, blown on the cool night breeze for Merlin's ears only. "If I hadn't been so wrapped up in my own glory..."

"I'm glad you were." Merlin said, "you would have killed him." Merlin saw that now. Saw how loyal Arthur was to his friends, how...protective he was. "Camelot needs any alliance it can get. Even Redwall."

"Still, I'm sorry." An owl hooted somewhere, and Merlin smiled when he heard the soft tune Gwaine was singing to himself as he stood watch. It was a song his mother had often sung in his childhood, and reminded him of the end of the day. "When we get back to Camelot, you will sit on the council to draft this new legislation."

"Me?" Merlin barely remembered to keep his voice down, "But Arthur, I'm just a -"

"Servant. I have been reminded of that often enough today, and that's the point. We need someone who knows the problem, and you're one I trust. You have moments of wisdom in you, Merlin. Perhaps you can summon one for the council when we get home."

"Arthur..." The rest of the words stuck in his throat. This show of faith was unprecidented, and could lead...anywhere. To a career on the council. To a life as an advisor. In Merlin's wildest dreams, Arthur knew of his magic and Merlin was at his side as he reigned, not as a serving boy but as a right-hand man. A confidant.

"Don't thank me. The only way I could stomach this process is if I have a friend in that room of old men with me." Merlin could hear Arthur's smile and smiled himself.

Maybe things would turn to rights. Merlin fell to sleep with his shoulder butting up against Arthur's, thinking of what he'd said earlier in the day. _I will always take your side_.

That night, he dreamt that the king was telling the truth.

**.***.**

**we've long wondered about the fact that...well, Merlin's a servant, and Arthur's not, and that must cause some issues, you know? not just oh-i-have-magic issues but _life_ issues. so this is our attempt to explain that. mostly, this is because we miss merlin...**


	2. And Stones

_**Merlin: **You have a very good servant!_  
_**Arthur: **You are right. I do. A servant who is extremely brave. And incredibly loyal, to be honest. Not at all cowardly._

.***.

The master of the house and servants had been born Calder and had taken on the epithet of "cruel" years before Merlin even came to Camelot. Proud and cruel, he ruled the household with an iron first. He was little more than a hedge knight, one step above squire, the seventh son in a forgotten line of minor nobles. With no inheritance to look forward to, he'd taken the job as master of the house of Camelot because he liked the idea of exercising power over those who could not fight back.

On one particular morning not long after Merlin had gotten back from that far-flung village with little Freddie in tow, he came down to the kitchen to find a ruckus. Really, he'd just been hoping for something to eat. Sometimes Sarah, the bread baker, would leave the heels on the edge of her cutting board for the servants to nibble on. Chores started for some as early as five in the morning, and the servant's breakfast wasn't until nine (by then, only half of the staff could attend, as the others were already in the thick of their duties. Merlin had only been to the servant's breakfast two dozen times since his arrival in Camelot.)

But as he threw a glance at Sarah's station she caught his eye and shook her head, nodding in the direction of Calder the Cruel, who was bellowing near the fire. That wasn't unusual - Calder was always bellowing, roaring, shouting, screaming, threatening or yelling. It was his perpetual state. What was unusual was the poker he held in his hand and the way he was brandishing it at Freddie.

Merlin had taken the seven-year-old under his wing, feeling responisble for his fate since he'd stepped in that morning in Petyr's town. Freddie was a fast learner, quick and eager to learn. He could probably be a squire when he got bigger, but for now he scurried from room to room, carrying splinters of firewood and stoking the fire. It wasn't a hard job, and it meant that Freddie had near free range of the castle, important for one so young and restless. The only problem was that he had to wake up first and stoke all the fires in the castle, which meant rousing one's self before the cock crowed. Twice so far Freddie had been late to his duty, and Merlin's heart sank when he saw him cowering in front of Calder the Cruel. Three times shirking your duty, and Calder gave you a punishment you weren't like to forget.

Merlin pushed his way to the front of the crowd of servants, all bidden to remain there to see the demonstration of punishment. He glanced at Hooper, a boy who helped the master of hounds, a brawny twenty-year-old who had set his jaw. Hooper was a friend, and had a temper. Merlin hoped he wouldn't do anything rash.

So Merlin prevented that by doing something rash first.

"Your job, boy, is to keep the fires of the castle hot. Yet I passed the knight's chambers this morning to find Sir Leon stoking his own fire. He asked me where the usual boy was with more wood." Merlin could just see Leon's face, probably concerned that Freddie had caught a cold running around the damp and chilly castle. Leon wasn't one to get indignant about starting his own fire...Arthur maybe, but not Leon.

"Perhaps you need a reminder of how hot a fire should be." The poker, which had been sitting in the flames, was withdrawn, the tip white-hot. There was an intake of breath among the servants - if the boy was branded, he would carry the mark for life.

"Stop!" Merlin shouted, running forward. He couldn't take Freddie's eyes, wide and scared. He couldn't take the way he scurried backwards, the way he shook his head and murmured under his breath a singe word _please please please please_. So he ran forward and bared his own arm, telling himself it would be just a few seconds of pain, and he could heal it later from Gaius or by magic. Telling himself it wouldn't be that bad. "I told Freddie I'd start the fires this morning. He hasn't been feeling well. It's by fault - I was late." He took a deep breath, looked Calder the Cruel in the eye. "It's my fault."

Freddie was looking at him, opening his mouth to give the whole game up and Merlin pushed him back out of the circle to Hooper, who caught him around the waist and was also staring at Merlin, opened-mouthed. He wished they wouldn't stare. He was looking at the poker, shining white, and he knew it was going to hurt. He knew he was going to scream, and embarrass himself, and _oh, why couldn't Hooper look away?_

Calder stared at him for a moment, and Merlin knew he was wondering whether he could perform the same punishment on Merlin without the latter going to the King. Merlin just lifted his chin and rolled up his sleeve. A dare. What could the old tyrant do without looking weak in front of his subjects? He pressed the poker to Merlin's skin...

Merlin bit his tongue so hard blood erupted in his mouth. In the end, he couldn't stop his scream as his body twisted, turned, tried desperately to get away from the invasive object pressing deeper and deeper into his skin...

Finally the offending metal was gone and Merlin collapsed, cradling his arm against him, tears and snot dribbling down his face. He was vaguely aware of Calder shouting something, of the man kicking him almost into the fire. And then a pair of hands was on him and Hooper was standing over him. "Merlin? The king's breakfast is on the sideboard. Stop by Gaius's on the way up, okay?"

Except that Merlin wouldn't because then Gaius would start a row with Calder, who would then take it out on Merlin, and he didn't have _time_ for politics like that, not when Arthur was in the middle of these difficult negotiations with the Dondorians. But he nodded at Hooper and stood up, his head spinning with pain. Freddie pressed a cloth soaked with water against the burn and Merlin smiled wanly at him.

"I'm sorry, Merlin." Freddie said miserably, and Merlin rubbed his hair absent-mindedly.

"It's okay, Freddie. Better me than you. Just don't wake up late again, all right?" Freddie looked like he would never sleep in again, and crossed his heart quite seriously.

Merlin chuckled, winced as he picked up the plate and his arm gave another scream of pain, and backed out of the kitchen. On his way out, Sarah gave him a chunk of warm, soft bread. "You're a good man, Merlin." She said, and Merlin tucked the gift into his sleeve, to eat as soon as he left the presence of Calder the Cruel. Maybe the day wouldn't be so bad after all.

He munched on the bread as he dodged through the corridors, turning and spinning to avoid passers-by, always making sure to keep the tray with the food level. Every time someone jostled him he winced, and when he wasn't wincing he was forcing back small cries of pain. The poker had left a three-inch long, half-inch thick, angry red weal on his arm. He was sure that under the cloth it was puckered and angry-looking. Not for the first time, he spent the walk up to Arthur's chambers thinking of interesting deaths for Calder the Cruel. _  
_

"You're late, Merlin."

"And you're your usual pleasant self, sire." Merlin said in return, his voice too full of forced-joviality for his liking, but Arthur didn't notice. He was still sitting on the edge of his bed, staring out the window with the expression he wore when trying to work through some difficult problem. Merlin was okay with that. He used the time to set up the breakfast food along the table. One of the maids had fetched a pitcher of water and Merlin, after glancing at Arthur to make sure he was still deep in thought, poured some onto the drying cloth.

"What's that you're doing?" Arthur asked, and Merlin closed his eyes, reminded himself to breathe. He was a terrible liar, especially when it came to Arthur, but if he could think of a quick, simple story...

"Just dampening a cloth, sire." But Arthur was already on his feet and grabbed Merlin's arm to see what he was doing.

And Merlin _screamed_.

He flailed and Arthur let go of him immediate and Merlin slammed his hands against the table, trying to steady himself, screwing up his face against the pain. Arthur could only stare, alarmed and more than a little concerned. The door opened and a guard looked in, eyes flitting quickly between the king and the servant. Arthur shook his head and the guard disappeared, closing the door with a soft _snick_.

"Okay Merlin," Arthur said quietly, putting a tentative hand on Merlin's shoulder. He took it as a good sign that it was not shrugged off. "What happened?"

Merlin, still not trusting himself to speak, turned his arm so that Arthur could see the ugly burn. When he caught sight of the king's angry face, he turned away. And he'd done this to not get involved in politics.

Arthur struggled to find words, "You...you should get Gaius to look at this." Merlin made an assenting noise in the back of his throat. "And you should tell me how you got it."

"I was...clumsy with the fire this morning."

"You're such a rotten liar, Merlin." And this caused Merlin to look up, surprised at the naked affection even he couldn't miss in Arthur's tone. "Did someone do this to you?"

Merlin looked away and Arthur felt something red and hot burn in his chest. Someone had burned his servant, his Merlin. They'd probably held his arm still and pressed a hot object against it, probably laughed while Merlin screamed and screamed.

"Things are going to change today." Arthur swept out of the room, Merlin hurrying along after him.

"Arthur, you don't understand, you don't even know who -"

"I know exactly who did this, Merlin. Calder the Cruel, right?" Arthur frowned at Merlin's incredulous expression. "He caught me nicking sweets from the kitchens when I was little. Gave me a big wallop with a heavy piece of wood. I never told my father - too proud, I guess- but I never forgot."

"Then how -?"

"How can I let him terrorize servants?" Arthur slowed and slumped against the wall in a deserted corridor, and Merlin just stared at him, "Because since becoming king I feel like I haven't had five days straight where the safety of all of my kingdom wasn't in jeopardy. And though I like to think of myself as a good person, I forgot that protecting my kingdom isn't just about winning military victories, and I forgot that sometimes malicious and cruel people can attack from within." Merlin just stared at him, a little terrified because he thought that Arthur was on the verge of tears of frustration. "Funny, right? Since I've been attacked from within my my own kin twice now."

"It's not your fault, Arthur."

"If I'd known what was going on in my own household then I could have prevented _that_." He glared at the burn on Merlin's arm and the servant shook his sleeve down to cover it up.

"You can't think of everything."

"I should have thought of you." Arthur said, so quietly Merlin didn't know if he'd actually heard it. "I should be protecting you."

"I don't need protecting." Merlin complained, trying not to smile. Arthur would be a good king if he felt so deeply for the pain of servants, and Merlin told him as much.

"You're more than just a servant, Merlin." Arthur said, pushing himself off the wall and clapping him on the shoulder. "Try to remember that. Go get your arm looked at. I'll see what I can do about Calder the Cruel."

And Merlin ran off, looking over his shoulder in time to see a red cloak swish around a corner. And he thought that everything would be okay, because Arthur was on the job.

Eventually, of course, the Once and Future king would get everything straightened out in regards to relations between servants and those who ruled them, but it would take a couple more tries (and one very scary experience for Merlin) for that vision to become a reality.

**.***.**

**we did not expect anyone to read this story, let alone have people ask us to continue it. thanks so much for all the kind reviews. as the ending suggests, they'll be a couple more chapters. arthur's trying to combat centuries of class struggle. camelot wasn't built in a day.**


	3. May Break

_**Uther**: You show the most extraordinary loyalty._  
_**Merlin:** That's my job, sire._  
_**Uther:** But beyond the line of duty..._

.***.

Of course, life had a way of making things that should be simple into complicated, messy events.

Calder the Cruel was dismissed. Arthur was determined to do it quietly, dignified, but when he got down to the kitchens and saw Calder brandishing a poker at another young boy, things like propriety and dignity went out the window. And, okay, he probably shouldn't have bodily thrown Calder from the castle. He may be a hedge knight from minor nobility, but Calder had a score of brothers who could cause trouble if they wanted to.

Arthur couldn't bring himself to care. He kept seeing Merlin's face, embarrassed and pained, not quite looking Arthur in the face, not quite trusting anyone to be on his side.

And this was his fault. He knew that, and that was a contributing factor to the blinding anger he felt as soon as he saw Calder in the kitchens. Merlin had _told_ him about the treatment he endured as a servant, and he, Arthur, had seen it first hand in the outlying town where they'd picked up the little boy. He had been putting off passing legislation about it because it was not going to be popular and the nobles would give him flak for it and he didn't want to take that as a new king. But he'd known, and done nothing.

"Thank you, Arthur." Merlin said later that evening, fastening Arthur's dress cloak and straightening it so it lay right in the back. "I didn't expect..."

"I already told you, Merlin. I know the nature of Calder the Cruel."

"Not many kings would take a servant's word over that of a nobleman, no matter how lowly." Merlin muttered to the ground. Arthur rolled his shoulders, needing to move, to stretch, to distance himself from this problem and forget the incident had ever happened. But he caught sight of the bandages on Merlin's arm and knew there was no escaping the past, not really.

"Look, he was an angry, petty man who deserved the name 'cruel.' I know that and most everyone in the castle knows that. I always thought he was a necessary evil but recently I've been thinking that people might just do more for you if you're nice for them. Carrots are better than sticks and all that. Can we stop talking about this?"

Merlin was looking at the king with a strange look on his face and Arthur stared back, annoyed. "What? Did I say something wrong?"

"No." Merlin said, smiling. "You just...it's nice to know that you're the man I thought you were."

"Don't be such a girl about it. And tomorrow you're to accompany me to the meetings of the high counsel. Calder will need to be replaced I think we could do with some revision of the old ways." Merlin was positively _beaming_ at this point and Arthur felt his ears getting red. "But before that, you can polish my armor and...here. Get my sword sharpened." He threw the sword at Merlin, who caught it deftly enough, making Arthur smile a little.

By the time he'd hunted down the blacksmith apprentice and cajoled him into looking at Arthur's sword, the council meeting had already begun and Merlin had to fly up the steps. He stood before the doors and tried to catch his breath, tried to summon a modicum of dignity so he could enter through the great doors as something other than just another servant.

"There you are, Merlin." Arthur said, glancing up as the doors opened. He was nearly alone in the great room, with just a handful of noblemen at the table. Arthur made the introductions quickly and sat Merlin down between him and the next youngest man, a twenty-five-year old, serious looking man named Kay who smiled kindly at the servant as he took the place at Arthur's right hand.

"I just don't see why you have to go through so much trouble, Arthur." Old Grummore rumbled from down the table, "The household was running as smooth as ever."

"It was being run by a cruel and malicious man. I believe that if I am to be a king for all the people of Camelot, then I should have _all _the people's interests at heart. A large portion of my own castle is servants and I believe they should be treated with greater respect."

"Yes, but all of _this_..." Grummore was peering down his blurry spectacles at a list he held in front of him. "Banning hanging over petty offenses I understand, but to ban _cruel and unusual punishments of any kind? _What does that even mean? And a general raising of wages..."

"That's for everyone. Everyone who draws a wage should be paid a halfpenny more. The prices of goods have been on the rise for months. My own servant Merlin had to save through the cold months to afford a coat." Merlin flushed at the mention of his name, flushing too because he didn't know Arthur had noticed.

"You'll put people out of business!"

"This should all work out better in the end." Arthur said, frowning because he didn't understand the mechanics of the thing himself. "Sir Kay, can you tell them what you told me?"

Kay, who was sitting on Merlin's other side, rested on his elbows to lean across the table. "The Castle of the Forest Sauvage have had some of these changes in place for a while now. My father, some thought, was too kind for his own good, but he told me that if you pay people more, they will buy more goods, thus giving the baker and butcher and tailor more money to give to their employees to go out and buy more goods. It is a cycle that works because money is constantly being put back into circulation." Kay paused as the older men tried to wrap their heads around this concept. "Also, I know how you feel about introducing such radical ideas about servants, Sir Grummore, but you needn't treat these people like slaves. I believe the king is right. If you make the working environment a good one, people will want to work harder. Did not Cicero say that the good of the people is the greatest law? Arthur only wants to do what is right for his people."

"Cicero also said more laws creates less justice." Fat Harold barked, looking at Kay with some surprise. He hadn't expected anything like that speech or intellect to come out of the mild-looking man.

"And Cicero," Kay said quietly, "said that the nobler the man, the harder it is to suspect inferiority in others. Please consider these words, councilmen. Small changes to us can be very great to our servants. Isn't that right Merlin?"

Merlin, who was starting to feel the gaps in his education as the great men around him spouted to each other about great men, started at the sound of his name. "Er...right. Mostly, the servants just want to be treated fairly. We do not need a repeat of Calder the Cruel." Arthur touched his sleeve and Merlin nodded, rolling it up and pulling at the bandage to reveal the shiny burn.

"The council will take a few minutes to deliberate." Sir Grummore said in his quavery voice, and Merlin stood up, as did Arthur and Kay.

"That was amazing, Kay. Thank you." Arthur gripped the young man's arm tight.

"I always wondered why Camelot was so backwards on its laws." Kay said, shrugging as another man rushed over to join the group. Dressed simply in the style of servants, he was about Kay's age, thin and dark.

"What happened? Are they changing the laws? Did you spout Cicero at them, Kay? You always make people back down to Cicero."

Kay rolled his eyes affectionately. "King Arthur, Merlin, this is Wart, my servant. Wart, this is the king." Wart made a low bow to Arthur and shook Merlin's hand before turning back to Kay and pushing him lightly on the shoulder.

"Well come on, tell me what happened!"

Kay shook his head, looking over Wart at Arthur. "You see, you're on the only one with a friendship invested in this law. We, too, have seen the lengths to which some servants are punished in the manner of the old ways." Wart beside him was nodding so hard his head looked liable to fall off.

Arthur said nothing, and Merlin frowned. As if Arthur would ever acknowledge him as a friend to others of noble blood! But he was becoming more and more impressed by Sir Kay, who was now talking animatedly to his servant, taking him through the council meeting. He broke off, though, to speak to the king about a point, and the servants were left to talk to one another.

"I knew he would quote Cicero!" Wart said to Merlin, "You should see it when he does it to his father. Kay's avoided a lot of wars by saying _the only excuse for war is that we may live in peace unharmed. _Do you like Cicero?"

"Er...I don't know." Merlin couldn't remember the last time he'd read a book about something other than how to kill this or that magical creature.

"You should read some. Since we were young Kay has been giving me books. He likes to have someone to bounce ideas off of." Wart puffed out his chest, obviously proud of his role, and Merlin felt a pang in his heart. Arthur, of course, would talk about serious matters with him as well, but though Merlin could reason stuff through, he could never quote great old dead men to back up his theories.

"The King is a good man, isn't he? Changing these laws for the servants when he could just be thinking about war. He's different from the last king. Different from all of them."

"Yeah," Merlin said, this time with complete honesty, "Yeah, he is."

The council voted on the law and agreed to all of Arthur's points...eventually. The old men insisted on questioning Kay on economic matters for nearly an hour before they relented. Merlin tried to follow the money matters as well he could, but kept getting lost in the lingo and ended up staring at Arthur's face as he followed the proceedings, moderating and questioning, reasoning and placating. He truly was a good king, and a good man.

The left the proceedings and Merlin ran ahead to grab Arthur's sword from the smithy. It was much later than he thought it would be and he was sure that the apprentice would have wanted to go home long ago. Sure enough Laurie was sitting on a barrel outside the shop, looking thoroughly put out. "I was just going to leave it inside but Hobson said that as it's the king sword I should wait for you. What, just because you're the king's manservant you can keep everyone else waiting?" He hit Merlin with the flat side of the sword. Laurie wasn't a terribly cruel boy, but he was tired and sore from a long day at the forge, and had been looking forward to seeing one of the kitchen girls before dusk.

"You're the one who caused all the ruckus in the kitchen, weren't you? Why can't you just leave well enough alone?"

"I'm trying to make life better for us! For all of us!" Merlin dodged the sword, remembering how he felt in that far-off village when he'd saved a young boy from death. And Freddie had been condemned simply because of old prejudices against servants.

"Why stir up trouble?" Laurie honestly didn't understand. Calder wasn't great but he was the devil they all knew. And with this thought he swung the sword hard into the bandages covering the barely-healing burn. And Merlin couldn't help his scream.

The next thing he knew, there were slim fingers around his arm, holding him down. "It's all right old sod. Don't get up. Kay's got this one." Merlin blinked blearily at Wart, then moved his eyes over to Kay who appeared to be giving Laurie and instruction in manners.

"Don't you all go attacking each other. You'll face enough adversity from the outside, I guarantee that." Kay rubbed the stubble on his chin, "I should make you apologize, but why draw this out? You should be thanking Merlin, honestly. He's the reason Arthur's doing all this, but I get the feeling no one thanks Merlin often enough." Laurie was staring the knight with a look of incredulity plastered on his face, and Kay waved the boy away, frowning and shaking his head. When the blacksmith's apprentice had gone, he turned to the fallen servant. "You okay there, Merlin?"

"Yeah, fine."

No sooner had the words gotten out of his mouth then there was a loud cry of "Merlin!" Echoing across the ground. Merlin sat straight up at the sound and turned to see Arthur coming towards them. "I'm starting to feel like I need to keep you on a leash. Have you angered someone again?"

"It was a misunderstanding all around, sire." Kay said, still shaking his head, "But everyone seems to be all right."

"Right." Arthur said, looking down at Merlin, a flicker of concern flashing across his face. "Well, it seems I have to thank you again Kay." Arthur shook the other man's hand, a thought seeming to come to him mid-shake. "Hey - you wouldn't care to...to stay on in Camelot? We need someone to look after the crown's finances, which are pretty much in shambles, and you're much better at dealing with the council than I am."

Kay's whole face brightened at this thought. "I think my father can spare me. I think I was driving him mad, too be honest."

"Well, it'll be nice to have someone I can trust making the laws. It'll give me more time to protect our borders." Arthur looked very excited by this prospect. Merlin merely groaned.

"The precepts of the law are these," Kay began, and Wart made a face to Merlin, "To live honestly, to injure no one, and to give everyone else his due. That's -"

"Cicero." The two servants said together, and everyone laughed.

So maybe change wouldn't be so difficult after all.

**.***.**

**except it does have to be difficult. there's four more chapters to this, in which they try to make justice for all and fail just a little bit. but the boys are trying.**

**kay is our favorite character from the books and we love him to pieces and don't know why he's not in this show. he'd be a good ally for arthur. also, we know that wart is arthur. we know that. but in _the sword in the stone, _wart has a very different personality than his grown-up self. so we took that personality and made it into a whole 'nother person.**

**thanks to everyone for all your amazing reviews. we would not have continued the story so far without them.**


	4. My Bones

**_Morgause: _**_You intrigue me, Merlin. Why does a low servant continue to risk everything for the Prince of Camelot? You know the answer but you are not telling me. Why? Come time and time again you've put your life on the line. There must be a reason.  
**Merlin: **I believe in a fair and just land.  
**Morgause: **And you think Arthur will give that?  
**Merlin: **I know it.  
_

.***.

Arthur liked to invite people to have dinner with him - Gwaine and Leon, Gaius and Grummore, and, more recently, Kay, and sometimes when it got late and people were drunk enough to not care he'd tell Merlin to pull up a seat, and that was easier when Kay's servant Wart was also around, and the two men would collapse next to the nobles, a look of satisfaction spreading across their faces as they got off their feet. Arthur would watch Kay sling an arm around Wart's shoulders and furrow his brow, mostly because he would see Merlin watching them, too, a sad expression creeping over his face.

"You and Wart seem...close." The King said one day when he and Kay went out to hunt with their birds. They'd left the servants behind for once, because Merlin had begged off with something to do for Gaius - and, honestly, for being the healer's apprentice he didn't ask for much time, and Arthur wanted to have a good healer once Gaius did retire. It was just investing in the future when he let him go off, pulling Wart into the forest with him to teach other other young man herbs and fungi.

"We grew up together," Kay said, shrugging. "In childhood he was more a brother than a servant. When I was three or four we would play together and - his real name's Arthur, you know. I couldn't say it right, I just called him Wart. It stuck. Then as we got older, I'd teach him what I was learning in class. I'd send him to bed with books every night, and he'd ask me questions about them. The other servants gave him hell for it, I know. Thought he was rising above his station. But he was my best friend. I needed to talk to him about what I was thinking. But you know what I'm talking about. I've seen you and Merlin together." Here Kay gave a little nod in Arthur's direction, and the king tried to hide his grimace.

Ever since he was young, he'd had the rules of propriety drilled into him by his father. Rules about how you interact with nobles and landowners, with women and servants. And even though his father was dead and buried, he still couldn't help but hear his voice in his head. _He's just a servant, Arthur. Just a servant._

He'd never even thought to ask about Merlin's education, but doubted it went beyond simple arithmetic and basic history. The servant knew how to read and write, but Arthur had never talked to him about his interests. Arthur himself had been a poor pupil, preferring the sparring grounds to the classroom, but he sensed that Merlin would have been an excellent student given the chance. And he'd never even offered him lessons with the sword or lance, despite the numerous situations they'd been in where Merlin had been forced to defend himself.

And Merlin...he wouldn't admit it to anyone, wouldn't admit it out loud, but his affection for Merlin went way past any master-servant relationship they'd had to begin with. It was even beyond the bond of ordinary friends, or at least the friends Arthur had had in the past. They'd laugh together, bicker with each other, call each other names, and somewhere along the way he'd started feeling protective of Merlin. The way he'd often imagined a man might feel about a reckless and lovable younger brother.

"Let's go further in," Arthur said, gesturing to the dark woods behind them, "There's nothing this close to the edge of the forest."

Arthur called his hawk to him and she came, landing with a weighty thump on his arm. He stroked her feathers and watched, amused, as Kay tried to tempt his gyrfalcon Cully down from the skies. Arthur laughed a little, whistled softly, and after a few seconds of pondering the hawk obediently flew down to his master. "You and Wart both have a talent for that," Kay said, a little grumpily. "I call to him and he just looks at me."

"I have a way with obstinate animals," Arthur said, venturing further into the woods, "I have to work with Merlin."

They both laughed a little and walked on, ducking under branches and winding between the dense underbrush. "I wanted to thank you for staying on, Kay. I don't know how these laws would be faring if not for you. It's appalling how slow it's taking as it is."

"Change takes time," Kay said in a way that made him sound very old instead of almost exactly Arthur's age. "But I like Camelot. I wanted to meet you for a long time. My father speaks very highly of you."

Kay often spoke of his father, Sir Ector, and from his stories he was a just man with a head for law and a love of the people in his small castle. "I would like to meet him one day,"

"He would enjoy meeting you, too. He always said, begging your pardon, Arthur, that you are not your father. You're not. You know that, right?" Kay glanced at him, and Arthur flushed a little at what he recognized as praise. He'd loved his father, but no one knew a man's faults like his son. In everything he did, Arthur strove to be the better man.

"I'm not so sure. I didn't know anything about these problems with the servants until a few months ago." Arthur shook his head, then suddenly flung his hand out to stop Kay before he stepped into a clearing.

"Wh-oh!"

Arthur shook the hawk off his arm and reached for his sword. Kay, a less confident knight, did likewise, Cully soaring into the air with a high screech that split the quiet day in two. There had been a struggle here. The ground was freshly churned, branches snapped, and blood...blood in pools and splatters, blood everywhere. The silence was breached again by a groan in the gloom of the wood, coming from the other side of a fallen tree.

The king motioned for Kay to go around the side of the log, and the two circled around, trapping whoever they would find between them.

Arthur put his sword to the man's throat before he could properly open his eyes. "Who are you? What are you doing in the forest of Camelot?"

The man, dressed all in black, filthy rags, grinned to reveal yellow, broken teeth. He was a slaver. "We was just passing through, and who could resist two young men in the woods, unarmed? They was askin to be taken."

Arthur glanced at Kay, who'd gone suddenly pale, and the King felt a stone drop into his own stomach. Two men in the woods, unarmed, not ready for an attack. Two men who'd ventured into the deep forest, probably looking for rare herbs for an aging healer who couldn't walk through the brambles himself. "What did they look like?" Arthur demanded, anger lacing every word, "Where have they been taken?"

But the man just laughed, refusing to give further information. In a final act of defense, he spat from his position on the ground into the king's face.

The King of Camelot slit the slaver's throat.

"Arthur!" Kay jumped forward, seizing his arm too late, and Arthur turned away from the touch, breathing hard. Servants may not be treated with the greatest respect but slaves were treated cruelly. Many in the kingdom turned a blind eye, pretended that slavery didn't exist. The market peddled young men to farmers and blacksmiths, sold people as soldiers to be used in war, as play things to fight against each other, with the winner bet upon. A slave had no rights, no chance for freedom, could be punished and killed for even a hint of disobedience.

And Merlin was going to be one of them.

"We'll find them before anything happens," Kay said. He didn't mention the man dead on the ground, just stepped over his body so he could be at the King's side, touching Arthur's shoulder. Kay's hand was trembling.

Arthur spun away from his touch and raced back to Camelot.

.***.

Everyone wanted to go rescue Merlin. Arthur burst into the castle, yelling for his horse, his knights, a better sword, and Leon came running. "What's going on, sire? What's happened?"

"Merlin and Wart were captured by slavers." Kay said, panting at Arthur's side. "They can't be more than two hours ahead of us."

Leon called for Gwaine, and for once the dark-haired man didn't make a joke when he heard what had happened. "Get Percival and Elyan and anyone else you can think of." Gwaine nodded, about to set off when Leon grabbed his shoulder, "And don't tell Gaius. No reason for the old man to know until...until we have better news."

Gwaine nodded, taking off up the stairs. "I'm going too." Kay said, in a tone that allowed no argument. Arthur wouldn't think of it. The state the man was in, it would be dangerous to leave him behind.

Arthur was taking the reigns of his horse from a pageboy when a man bigger than Percival approached him. "Is it true?" The stranger said, sounding very young for all his size, "Was Merlin captured by slavers?"

"Who the hell are you?" Arthur snapped, trying to get around the distraction.

The big man refused to be moved. "I'm called Hooper, sire. I help the master of dogs." Arthur could place him now. Hooper had been a part of the Pendragon household for more than a decade. "Merlin is a good friend."

"I have to go," Arthur said, mounting the horse. Kay and the Camelot knights were riding out of the stables.

Hooper took a familiar-looking neckerchief out of his pocket. "Merlin gave this to me this morning - I burned my hand," his voice was so apologetic that even the harried king felt sorry for him. "Can you return it to him? When you find him?" He pressed the red neckerchief at the king and turned away abruptly, thinking as he left that this was all his fault. He'd been the one with Merlin's good-luck charm.

Arthur tied the neckerchief around his arm and spurred his horse forward, catching up to the knights. They rode hard, in silence, through the dense forest to the place where Arthur and Kay had come upon the slaver. There Gwaine and Elyan, the best trackers, dismounted and started looking for a path. No one mentioned the dead man near the dead tree.

It was determined, though footprints and hoofprints and broken branches that Arthur's panicked mind couldn't follow, that they band of slavers had gone South with their victims. "And what's this?" Gwaine picked up a pin, pure gold, too expensive to be owned, let alone dropped by slavers.

Kay let out a pained groan. "That's Wart's. I gave it to him when he saved my life." No more explanation, and Gwaine pressed the pin into Kay's hand. Everyone pretended not to notice the blood splatters on the golden surface. Kay clipped the pin to his shirt the same way Arthur had attached the neckerchief to his arm, and the group took off again, riding slower to keep to the trail.

"I can't believe this is happening," Kay said, shaking his head. "I thought we were making some progress. I thought we were changing things. I forgot...I forgot about slavery. How can someone forget about something like that?"

"No one likes to talk about it," Arthur said, pressing his lips tight. He didn't want to talk about it now, either. Didn't want to talk about what would happen to smiling, innocent Merlin if they couldn't find him, if he was sold as a slave.

"That's no excuse," Kay said, his voice shaking with anger. "Wart and I were raised as brothers. Brothers where one's life is worth more than the other's. Once, a neighboring Lord came to my father and asked for half of his lands. My father is a very polite man, and gave him a feast. The Lord put poison in my cup. I think he was planning to blackmail my father - the antidote for half our lands. But Wart knew what had happened, and drank the poison instead of me."

This sounded so like something Merlin had done for Arthur years ago that the King could only stare, horrified.

"He was dying. I didn't know what to do. There was a woman back then, in our part of the kingdom, who could heal like no one else. Some say -" He stopped abruptly, looking into the forest.

"You can't leave a story there," Arthur said, "Finish it."

"Some say she practiced the Old Religion. At that point I didn't care. Anything to save Wart. He was my best friend. He was dying because of me." Kay looked at Arthur, ready to argue, to be shouted at, to be banished. The Pendragon hatred of the old religion was legendary, and Arthur had to swallow the venom that rose in his throat at the mention of the thing which had killed or corrupted everyone he loved.

When Kay was sure Arthur wasn't going to say anything he continued, hesitantly, "Wart lived. I sat with him, as he was getting better. That's when I gave him the pin - he'd always admired it - and asked him why he did that. I was...oh, you know how young men are, Arthur. I had been trying to distance myself from him. I thought that it wasn't right for a noble to associate with a servant. I was mean-spirited, and sometimes cruel, and Wart still saved my life. When I asked him why, he said because my life was worth more than his."

Kay turned to Arthur, pain etched in every line of his face. "Shouldn't we try to change that? Does not Cicero say -" Here Kay broke off, gasping, because at this point Wart would be howling with laughter at Kay quoting Cicero again."Does not Cicero say 'we are not born for ourselves alone?' We have the power to change this way of thinking, Arthur. Shouldn't we be doing that?"

"I'm trying," Arthur said miserably. Centuries of tradition was hard to overturn in a single reign.

"I know," Kay said, his voice suddenly gentle, "I just hope what we're doing is enough. Dear God, I hope it's enough. My life isn't worth more than anyone's, especially Wart's."

They rode in silence for a few minutes, staring up at the sky that threatened rain. Rain would erase the trail. "What if we don't find them?" Kay asked desperately, voicing the thought no one dared to say.

"What if they're lost to us forever?"

**.***.**

**yeah, i think Camelot has slavery. they mentioned it once or twice. so if arthur's trying to make better laws, he should make them all better. just a giant overhaul of the system. and we were thinking that the woman healer kay mentioned could be alice, gaius's old lady friend. thanks for all the reviews, everyone. please keep them coming. **


	5. But Names

_**Arthur:** Merlin! Where have you been?  
**Merlin: **Were you worried about me?  
**Arthur: **No, I was making sure we weren't being followed.  
**Merlin: **You came back to look for me.  
**Arthur: **All right. It's true. I came back because you're the only friend I have, and I couldn't bear to lose you.  
_

.***.

It rained.

When the first drops started, Gwaine spurred his horse faster, faster, trying to keep the train. The others thundered after him, dodging past trees and under branches, all praying that the rain would be light, that it wouldn't wash away every trace.

It was a deluge. A flood as was rarely seen at the end of summer. Rain that made farmers first happy for the water, then apprehensive as it continued, doing far more than nourishing the crops. Drowning them. Ruining them.

After lingering in a clearing for ten minutes...fifteen...getting soaked and cold even in the lingering heat of early September, Elyan turned to Arthur. "It's no use. The trail's gone."

"Gone?" Kay breathed at Arthur's side, and the king saw the other man touch the golden pin attached to his undershirt. "It can't have just...vanished. There must be caravans! A dozen horses!"

"The wood is sparser here," Gwaine said, jumping in for Elyan who looked so sorry he couldn't speak. "It makes it easier for the band to pass unnoticed. We were following the ruts from the wagons, the but rain..."

Arthur let out a frustrated growl, throwing his head back to the heavens that were raining misfortune down upon them. The knights all backed away, all except for Leon, who spurred his horse forward. The older man touched Arthur's shoulder, comforting. "We know where they're headed. Lussex and Hay, Hereford...the bigger villages. We can still find them."

Trying to believe this was true, Arthur smiled tightly, glanced at Kay. "What do you think? Are two fool servants worth the trouble?"

"I'm going to find Wart," Kay said, his voice shaking, "Just to have the pleasure of killing him myself."

Without a path, without any direction at all, they started to pick their way out of the woods.

.***.

It took two days to get a lead.

Gwaine returned from the town to the company in the woods. Each had gone to a different section of the small village, asking quiet questions about the slavers who sometimes passed through with no luck. Arthur was staring at the fire. With each hour Merlin seemed to get further away. At this point, even if they found the slavers, there was no guarantee Merlin would still be with them. And if he wasn't, he'd be lost to them forever.

A _thud_ announced Gwaine's arrival as he threw himself down next to the king. He pulled on his Camelot cloak, looking murderous. "I have a lead," he said, his voice hard, "The slavers are going to be outside Hereford tomorrow at dawn."

"That's excellent!" Elyan said, running over to them.

Percival studied Gwaine's face for a second. He was often called slow because of his size, but he was good at reading people. "What's wrong?" He asked the other knight. "What do you know?"

Gwaine slammed his hand onto the pommel of his sword over and over again he told the story, his words cramped and rushed. He'd been told by the barman at the inn about the slave market, because the man was hoping to purchase one for help int he bar. "He said 'it'd be easier than paying someone to steal from me,' and then he looked around at everyone like we were all just waiting for him to turn his back. He was a piece of work. But when I asked him when it was, or where, he told me to talk to a bloke named Simon who was sitting at one of the tables." Gwaine's expression got darker, if possible, as he remembered the man decked out in a preposterously luxurious outfit leering from the back of the bar.

"He owned the brothel on the outskirts of town. I told him I was interested in maybe doing a little business there, and he told me to wait until tomorrow night - he was getting some nice slave girls from the market. New. Exotic. Then he looked at me and winked. Told me he was getting some nice slave boys, too."

Arthur's face hardened and Kay let out a little moan. They'd forgotten - they'd all forgotten - how the slave trade did most of its business selling the big men to the militias and the women to the bawdy houses. They'd all forgotten - or tried their hardest to forget - that small room to the side of brothels, where young lithe men lounged on the couches instead of women. And Wart and Merlin would never be mistaken for soldiers.

Arthur stamped out the fire, throwing down his meager meal of bread and hard cheese. "We ride now."

.***.

Percival took the lead here. Born in Hereford, he was a homing pigeon in the dark forest. The rain had passed, and though it was soggy underfoot the sky was alight with a thousand stars. They cast a light even into the forest, soft and shimmering, that made Arthur half-believe the whole ordeal was a dream.

"What will you do when we reach Hereford?" Kay asked, his voice breaking the trance the stars put them all in.

The words left Arthur's mouth before he could think about their repercussions. "I'm going to announce that the King had forbidden all trading of slaves within the realm of Camelot."

The shadows riding next to him gasped and one spoke in Elyan's voice. "Truly?"

"It should have been done long ago," Arthur said, confident in this. "The trading of human lives is...wrong..." he finished his sentence lamely, looking around at the shadows gliding through the trees. "Does Cicero say something about slaves, Kay?"

"No," Kay said, his voice barely a breath on the wind. "And Roman slavery was...brutal. But a great philosopher once said: 'A new commandment I shall give unto you; that you should love one another.' Jesus Christ our Lord." Kay's head turned in the darkness, "I think that's a good reason as any to end slavery."

"Here here." Elyan said quietly, and there were murmurs of ascent from the other shadows. Arthur nodded, digesting this.

In the long run, he sensed that putting an end to the brutal practice would make him seen as a good man. History might write him down as a precedent-setter, as a progressive king. But right now? Now, when he had a kingdom to defend and people who looked to him to lead, he had to be a strong king. A mighty king.

"Does Might make Right?" He asked, and the knights he known for years turned to him, and he could feel their puzzlement in the darkness. He was puzzled, too, at the moral bent he'd been thinking in ever since that day in the far-flung town when he'd saved a servant boy from being killed. He knew that this was not a question his father would ask. He also knew that, if only for that reason, it was a good riddle to pose.

"No," Kay said. Kay, the philosopher who Arthur would make a knight when they got back to Camelot, who would take care of the treasury and be one of Arthur's most trusted councilors, was now still mostly an outsider whose broad view of the world came from the dusty tomes in his father's vast library. "I never believed that might does make right, Arthur." There was some pride in his voice. The king, who had been mocked by Kay's learned friends for being all brawn and no brain, was beginning to think for himself.

.***.

When they reached Hereford, the sun had already peaked above the horizon. Arthur leaned hard into his horse, spurring him forward and trying to banish the small, sly voice in the back of his mind that whispered that Merlin was probably gone already. They crested a hill, and situated in the valley below was a semi-circle of caravans set around a makeshift stage.

Arthur had seen slave trading before. Not in the city under the castle - it was considered a vulgar practice, beneath nobles - but in the side villages and towns, in the vast countryside they had occasionally ridden upon human lives being sold for pennies. The practice had never sickened him as it did now.

"Arthur, wait!" Leon tried to grab his arm but it was no use, he was already charging down the side of the hill, his eyes frantically scanning the slaves huddled near the stage, the ones being bought, all blindfolded, hands tied behind him. He was looking for familiar black hair...

It was chaos. For a quarter hour Arthur got off his horse and shouted the slavers down, his sword drawn, until Elyan and Kay got on either side of him and began talking in hard voices about the King's new law, and for a moment Arthur forgot that he was the king they were talking about. He'd already wilted between the two other men. Merlin was no where to be found.

Eventually, with much difficulty and threats where Arthur at last shouted to the assembled people that anyone found buying or selling slaves would be punished with death, the scene dispersed and the slaves turned over to Arthur.

The King desperately wanted to take the men into custody, but as Elyan pointed out, when they'd captured Merlin and Wart, it was not yet against the law. So he let them go, warning them that their deaths would be painful if he ever saw them trafficking humans again.

As soon as the slavers were gone Arthur turned to the assembled huddled slaves, staring at them with wide eyes. Most were foreign, and it was down to Percival, who could calm anyone, and Leon, who had a surprising grasp of languages, to tell them that they were free. Arthur just went from one to the other, looking for the men they'd come all this way to free.

"Arthur!" Gwaine cried, his head poking out of the back of a caravan, and Arthur stumbled over to him, thinking the worst.

Merlin was huddled in the bottom of the cart, bound and gagged like the others. Arthur reached for him and he moaned. "Please...not again."

"_Merlin_." Arthur's voice was just relieved enough to come out gentle and he carefully, carefully slipped off the blindfold. Merlin's face was a bloody mess. Someone had beaten him.

Swollen eyes opened and Merlin's mouth twitched into a gruesome parody of a smile. "'Lo Arthur. Fancy meeting you here."

The king pulled his servant off the floor, nodding to Gwaine to take off the rope on Merlin's hands. "This is why I can't leave you alone, Merlin. One morning off and you managed to get yourself kidnapped?"

"Sorry, sire." Merlin's words were mumbled, mushy, probably from his swollen lips, his broken teeth. But he was alive, and Arthur hugged him fiercely to his chest for a second before climbing out of hte caravan, carefully dragging the younger man's body after him.

Kay was at their side in an instant, his neck craning to see into the caravan. Merlin's face paled as much as it could past the bruises and cuts. "S-Sir Kay, I'm so sorry." The little stutter broke Arthur's heart a little. Kay's expression broke it completely.

The man closed his eyes, and when they opened grief like nothing Arthur had ever seen was visible in their depths. "What happened? Can you tell me, Merlin?"

"You should start at the beginning." Arthur prompted, motioning to Leon and Gwaine to get food and blankets. In the meantime he led Merlin over to the makeshift stage and pressed the red neckerchief into his hand, curling the fingers around it.

Merlin lifted grateful eyes to his king and began to talk in a high, fast voice about what it was like to walk through the woods explaining about thyme and mint one second and the next be surrounded by thieves. "I got one, Arthur!" He said, looking at his master, who nodded proudly, remembering the man he'd questioned.

"At least some of this is rubbing off on you."

"Not well enough. We were still taken." Merlin continued, talking about how at night they would stop and the slavers would look them over. He and Wart were labeled for the brothels immediately and then passed over. When he said this, Merlin turned absolutely red, as if his physique was his fault, as if other men's vile intentions were his fault, and not for the first time cursed the superstitious slavers who'd decked out their caravans in anti-sorcery ruins. Without his magic, he was powerless.

The first town they stopped at hadn't been large enough for bawdy house, though one of the men had seemed interested in Merlin. He didn't tell Arthur, was already looking murderous (and Merlin was terrified that it was because he was humiliated that his servant would have become a common whore) but the man had touched him, which had terrified the blindfolded servant, and told the slavers that he'd pay ten gold coins for the first go at Merlin's virgin body. The slavers had refused only because they knew that some of the larger brothels would pay double that for a virgin boy, especially one as young and handsome as their catch.

"Wart saved me," Merlin said quietly, twisting his neckerchief between his fingers. "We were getting to a big town, and one of the other slaves that the men were going to sell all the smaller boys to the brothel there. So Wart turned to me and did this." He gestured to his face, bloody and cut. "I was too surprised to stop him. When we got to the town, the slavers didn't want to show a slave looking so abused. They kept me in the caravan. The last thing Wart said to me was _Kay and Arthur will find you soon." _Merlin blinked up at them. Kay was looking at the sun, now fully risen, blinking away tears.

"The town was called Firnstel." Merlin said, "We left it yesterday morning."

"We'll get him back, Kay." Arthur said. Kay nodded, and went over to the horses.

.***.

In the end, Arthur, Kay, Merlin, and Gwaine had gone to Firnstel. Leon, Elyan, and Percival were finding places for all the newly freed slaves and then riding on to Camelot to begin making Arthur's deeds legal. Arthur had tried to persuade Merlin to stay with them, that the journey to Firnstel would be hard on his already hurt body, but Merlin had absolutely refused.

"I'm going to help you find Wart." And that was the end of it.

They had to stop to water the horses a little after mid-day, and Arthur leaned over to Merlin, murmuring words that the other two couldn't hear. "Are you...all right? They didn't...I mean, they didn't hurt you...?"

Merlin jerked his head angrily. The anger hid his extreme embarrassment rather well. "I told you they wanted a virgin, Arthur. How much more plain could I make it?" And he sounded defensive because there had been moments...but he wouldn't tell Arthur about that, not on pain of death. He would preserve whatever little dignity he had left.

The ordeal at Firnstel was carefully planned out. Gwaine and Merlin were the voices of reason here - freeing slaves was one thing. Shutting down bawdy houses was another. There'd be a mutiny within a month. No, it would be better just to go in there and slip Wart quietly out.

"I'll do it," Gwaine said when they were in sight of the brothel. But before he could slide down his horse Kay was already in the door. "I'm doing this."

Kay would never tell anyone about how the proprietor leered at him when he said he wanted to spend time with the boys. He would never tell anyone about how he had to wait for another man to finish before he could go in and see Wart. He would never tell anyone about how he'd taken off his shirt to cover his servant, who was wearing clothes so small they served no purpose whatsoever, and would never tell about disappearing in a back room, out a back door, circling around to the horses.

And no one, not Gwaine or Arthur or Merlin, would ever tell a living soul about how Wart had sobbed when he climbed onto the horse, half out of pain and half out of humiliation that cut deeper than a knife. It was one thing to be sold into slavery. It was another all together to be used as a common whore.

And though King Arthur rode back to Camelot, a champion of servant, a freer of slavers, he still looked at the shaking young man perched in front of Kay and felt like this adventure had been a spectacular loss for his people.

**.***.**

**this story has taken an alarmingly dramatic turn. poor merlin. poor, poor wart. poor arthur, who will have to find out how to talk about feelings (and talk a little bit more about might vs. right) in the next chapters. don't know how this twist will be taken, so please comment with your thoughts.**


	6. Can Never

_'Look on the bright side,' said Merlin, picking up Arthur's mood and trying to obliterate it with boyish enthusiasm. 'You've still got me.'  
Arthur snorted. 'Is that supposed to cheer me up?'  
Merlin pretended to be hurt. 'Well,' he said, 'I thought it might…'  
Arthur couldn't help but grin; truth be told, he'd be lost sometimes without Merlin's relentless optimism. **From the book 'Lancelot and Guinevere' by Martin Day**_

.***.

"Merlin, please."

"I just can't, Arthur!" Merlin turned around, slamming his fists into the wall and wincing as pain shot through his already battered body. "I can't talk about it! I want to forget about it! Just let me...just let me pretend this never happened. Please?" He looked at Arthur with such pitiful eyes that the King swallowed hard before reminding himself that Merlin _wasn't _fine, that no one should expect him to be fine after being kidnapped and almost sold into slavery.

Arthur sat on his bed and patted the spot next to him. It would be easier if they were both staring at the wall, if he didn't have to look at Merlin's expressive face change into masks of pain, of incomprehension. "Merlin, I don't do this well, but you...you need to talk about this. Just to get it out there. I want you to know that I'm...I'm always here if you...you know. Need me." He coughed awkwardly and stared at the wall as if the stone had changed any time in the last century.

He was right. It was easier not having to look at Merlin. The younger man was staring at the wall, too. "What do you want to know?" He asked stiffly, grinding the words out.

Arthur sighed, "This isn't an order, Merlin. I'm not...the whole point of this is that people can't tell other people what to do. People can't own other people." He balled his hand in a fist. Why did it take something hitting so close to home for him to realize that? "I want you to want to talk to me."

Merlin sighed and ran a hand through his hair. Arthur could hear him breathe a shaky, nervous laugh. "What do you want me to say? That I thought I was teaching Wart something useful and important and instead I led us into an ambush? That I was too weak to defend myself? That I was completely powerless in that wagon?" He still shuddered at the runes inscribed on the inside of the wagon, as if the slavers had known that eventually they'd catch a sorcerer.

"Do you want to hear about how people would talk to us at night and-" he broke off, breathing hard, forcing the words out, "_touch_ us?"

Arthur sat stiffly, trying not to scream or get up and pace or yell, because that would send the wrong message. Merlin, always sensitive and made more so by his ordeal, would think that Arthur was angry at _him_. As if the king had enough room for anger at anyone other than the men who'd taken his own servant from his own lands in his own kingdom. As if he wasn't too angry at himself.

Merlin's voice was shaking, cracking, threatening to split right down the middle. "Do you want to hear about how Wart sacrificed himself to save me? How it felt to see him get dragged out of the wagon and know -" Merlin broke off again, and tried to suppress it, but a quaking sob bubbled up from somewhere deep inside and Arthur couldn't help himself. Even though he knew Merlin hated it more than ever he had to put an arm around his servant, his friend. Merlin flinched, but didn't pull away completely. Eventually, he sank into the touch.

That was a win in Arthur's book nowadays.

"It's not your fault." Arthur soothed, remembering all the times he wished his father would say those words to him when a mission went South. Never before had they been more true. "The men who captured you were monsters. You did everything you could." He took a deep breath, and gave Merlin one last squeeze before standing up. "And I'm going to do everything I can. I'm going to ban slavery in Camelot, and I'm going to free all existing slaves."

Merlin gaped at him, then sprang to his feet. "You can't!" He squeaked, voice jumping an octave. "That's the stuff civil war's made out of! Arthur, your enemies think you're weak as it is!"

"But because of this, my people will think I am strong." Arthur said, daring Merlin to refute them. "Won't they? Won't most see this as a positive change for Camelot?"

"It's so..." Merlin shook his head, "Radical. Changing the laws to do with servants is one thing. Slaves...people would rather just pretend slaves don't exist."

"And that's half the problem!" Arthur clapped Merlin on the shoulder, "Do I have you with me? Do you need more heart-to-heart?"

"No," said Merlin, sarcasm thick in his voice, "Three minutes talking to you and I think I'm cured, thanks for that."

Arthur, who'd spun towards the door, suddenly turned around and wrapped Merlin in a hug that was so unexpected that Merlin, shy of touching of late, didn't even have time to squirm away from it. "You come to be any time you need to talk," Arthur said, his voice rough. "You been having nightmares?"

"No."

"I have." Arthur admitted, "Nightmares that we couldn't find you."

"Yes," Merlin said, nodding, "I've been having nightmares."

Arthur nodded and grabbed the servant's elbow. "Maybe you can sleep in here tonight. It'll save me a trip." Merlin looked at him, puzzled, and Arthur rubbed the back of his neck. "Well, every time I wake up from one of those nightmares I have to go down to your room. Make sure you're all right."

Merlin could just stare, so overcome with affection for his king, his friend, that he couldn't find words, could just grin that broad grin Arthur had been wanting to see all along. And they both thought that maybe they'd be okay. Maybe, even though they'd been through something awful, terrible, unspeakable...maybe the good that Arthur would do for the kingdom would almost make it all worth it.

Almost, because although Merlin had nightmares and hated to be touched, Wart, poor Wart, was another matter entirely.

.***.

"I have to leave, Arthur." Kay said, standing on the battlements next to the king, hands behind his back, standing stiffly even as they looked down on the bustling castle.

Arthur shot him a look. "You can't." An order, a statement. Though Kay had only been in Camelot for a few months he'd changed the place so fundamentally that Arthur no longer remembered how they'd gotten by without him. Kay had checked over the long lists of figures that made up the treasury, figured out how to cut expenses, walked among the townsfolk like they were best friends, and had fallen into the habit of lecturing out on a high hill every week, discoursing on philosophy and ethics, on morality and ancient works. He was frequently interrupted by Wart, the only other one who had read the texts, and usually the lectures dissolved into highly amusing shouting matches. No, Kay couldn't leave Camelot. The castle would be empty without him.

"Wart's not getting any better." Kay said, his hands clenching around themselves, eyes hard. "I think a change of scenery -"

"Have you talked to him?"

"He won't talk!" Kay shouted, rounding on Arthur. Then he remembered himself, and backed away from the king. He took a deep breath. "He was back on his feet two days after our return, and even Gaius gave him a clean bill of health. And he walks around and smiles like everything's fine but I can see his eyes. I've known Wart as long as I've known myself, and those are not my friend's eyes."

"He's been through an ordeal. These things take time -"

"If it were Merlin," Kay said, voice hard, "you would not be dismissing this so lightly. Imagine you've known Merlin since you were babes, and were raised with him, and knew his worst fears and greatest dreams." Kay was shaking now, his back to the view. "He's my...he's my _best friend_, Arthur. And I can't keep him in Camelot. He'll die here. He needs...he needs the forest, and the open spaces. He needs haymaking and harvest. Maybe after summer..."

Arthur talked over him, and the King's eyes were focused on a point down below, among his people. "I was twelve when I saw my first battle, and killed my first man. My father wasn't with me. He'd ordered me on a raid, with Leon as my protector. I was young, and desperate to prove myself, and engaged a man in single combat. I killed him easily. For many, many months all I could see, every waking moment, was the blood that stained my sword after I pulled it from his chest. And it never got better. Not until one night when Leon stayed up with me. We watched stars fall from the sky and I told him about the blood in my vision. Do you know what he told me?" He didn't wait for Kay to shake his head. "He said that we can do nothing about the past, and we must move on. In more eloquent words than that, and as a boy that was enough."

He turned to Kay, his face an open book. He was begging the other man to stay. "Now that I'm older, and King, and have the power to do so, I realize that we cannot change the pass. But we can learn from it. I'm going to free al the slaves. I'm going to make slavery illegal." He held up a hand, staying whatever arguments Kay might make. "I need you for this, Kay. I don't have the knowledge to do it alone."

"I - Arthur, this is a grave risk. You will have war over this."

"Do you think I'm wrong?"

Kay sighed, "no." He blinked hard, eyes wet. "Damnit, Arthur! Why couldn't you just let me go?"

"Because being a leader means that sometimes you have to put the good of the many ahead of the good of the few. Or the one. I'm sorry. I think you're right. I think Wart would recuperate better at your home. But I need you here now. I need you if I'm going to stop these atrocities from ever happening again." He touched Kay's shoulder. "I am truly sorry." His voice was thick and he cleared his throat to get rid of the lump in it. Sometimes he really hated being king.

Green eyes raised to meet his. "I'm not staying for the good of Camelot. I'm staying because when two servants were taken, you immediately rode to their aid. And that is a man I believe in." Kay reached out a hand and Arthur grasped it, smiling grimly. "I'm with you in this, friend. But a storm will come because of your decision here today." His smile turned sad, and Arthur knew he was thinking about Wart, and how sometimes making these kinds of decisions was too damn hard.

.***.

Merlin had been trying to get Wart on his own for weeks now, but every time he got near the other servant, he would disappear into a crowd or around a corner. For a tall, lanky fellow, Wart was quick and quiet. He disappeared with such ease that for a few days Merlin considered the possibility that his friend might be a sorcerer.

It wasn't until three weeks after their Ordeal that Merlin, in a fit of frustration, caused Wart to stumble on the way into the great hall.

"Are you all right?" Kay asked immediately, examining the man who'd just fallen into him. "Are you hurt? I told you you shouldn't return to duties so quickly." Kay fretted like a mother hen as Wart straightened up and insisted he was fine. "You most definitely are _not_ fine!" Kay said with such vehemence that those within earshot - Arthur, Merlin, and a small group of knights - knew that he wasn't talking about a small stumble. "Merlin!" Kay said, locking eyes with the young servant. "Can you take Wart back up to our rooms to rest?"

"I don't need to rest!" Wart protested irritably. If any other servant addressed his master like that, he was risking a flogging at least, but everyone was so used to the two bickering back and forth that the tone was to be expected.

"You do." Kay insisted, staring at Merlin. "Go upstairs. I'll see to you after supper."

After the group had left, and only Merlin and Wart were left in the atrium, Wart grunted, "Kay never was very good at subtlety, Merlin. I know you've been trying to get me on my own since..." He trailed off, glaring at the floor.

"I just wanted to...to thank you." Merlin felt suddenly shy as the older man turned to him, face blank. This Wart was so changed from the carefree, animal-loving, curious young man who'd come to Camelot three months prior. But Merlin stumbled on anyway. "You saved...well, not my life, I suppose, but my...you know." This was not a conversation he wanted to be having in the open, so down the corridor they went, up a staircase, down a different corridor, into Kay and Wart's spacious room.

Once there, Wart turned to face him, his back to the window. "I regret many things from our little adventure, Merlin." Wart's voice was laced everywhere with sadness, husky with a grim maturity he'd gained too quickly. "But my little ploy to save you is not one of them. I'm glad it worked. I'm glad you were found in time."

"I wish you'd been saved, too!" Merlin said, so earnestly that Wart cracked the barest of smiles. "And I want you to know that...it's all right. The nightmares and the flashbacks. Not liking to be touched. Needing space. It's...I need that, too. Sometimes I feel like I'm going to explode, too."

Wart shook his head. "You don't understand." The embarrassment, first, then the pain, pain, shame. The leers and the insensitivity. Thinking that he'd never see anyone he'd ever known again. Thinking that Kay had forgotten him, that Kay wouldn't want to know him once he knew what Wart had been forced to do. Imagining his master - his oldest friend - coming in and seeing him doing _that_ and Kay spitting in his face, denouncing him, leaving him in that Hell. And then his nightmare came true, and Kay did come through the door, and Wart almost died from the shock and the expected pain, and though Kay hadn't turned on him yet Wart knew he would. Because Wart was sinful and damaged. Because Wart was weak.

He didn't know he was speaking out loud until Merlin's arms were wrapped around his torso and they were holding each other, the first real human contact either had had in almost a month.

Merlin's head was spinning. "That's not...Kay would never do that."

"Smart lad." Kay said, and the two young men turned fast and sprang apart from each other, staring at the noble who had the power to shatter them both to pieces with his next words.

Instead, Kay crossed the room and pulled Wart into his arms. "It's nice to know you have such a high opinion of me, Wart. Maybe I should go looking for help who won't think I'll turn on them for something that's _not their fault_." Kay emphasised the last words, and whatever facade Wart had managed to build for himself crumbled. He sobbed against Kay and the knight held him with strong arms and lied to him and told him everything was going to be all right.

Merlin looked on, feeling a pit form his his stomach, longing manifesting itself. Arthur would never be that friendly towards him, especially not where others could see.

"Come on, you cabbage head." A quiet voice said from and doorway. Merlin tripped over to Arthur and the two gave the men from the Forest Savauge some privacy.

"Cabbage head is my insult." Merlin said, tipping his face up to meet Arthur's and showing off his not-quite-right grin.

Arthur stared at him for a moment, then pulled him into an embrace. "Everything is going to be all right, Merlin." Arthur said. "I know I didn't say it before, but...I'm trying to change things. I'm trying to make everything okay." _For you. Because of you. My friend_.

Arthur didn't say that, but he didn't have to. Merlin, eternally optimistic, filled in the blanks.

**.***.**

**the amount of reviews for this story is astounding. we're so glad people are interested in a story that has absolutely nothing to do with magic! only one more chapter after this, a quiet denouement for our characters. **


	7. Hurt Me

_"One thing I've learned since being here is that Arthur values your opinion above almost all others...even if he'd be the last one to admit it." **Princess Mithian**_

.***.

Arthur changed things. He didn't like politics and he didn't like drafting laws and he didn't like sitting on council meetings, but if the only way he was going to keep his people safe was by listening to boring old Grummore rumble on in the great drafty room...then that's what he would do.

It was Kay who really took matters into his own hands. Kay who wrote out the laws so that there were no loopholes, no possible way that someone could go through what Wart had. He didn't go back to the Forest Savauge, but he did call for his father. Sir Ector left the castle in the hands of his overseer for a month and came to see his son, because the letter was urgent, because Kay didn't back down from anything and he said he was hanging on by threads.

"I can't believe the council is being run by Grummore and Pelinore. Don't you know they're idiots?" Ector laughed and pulled Arthur towards him in a one-armed hug. "We'll see how much I can change in my short time here. How you holding up, young man?"

Too surprised to react well, Arthur disentangled himself from the first hug he'd received from an elder in...years. "I'm doing fine, sir."

Sir Ector searched his face and smiled sadly. "No you're not doing fine. You're barely holding it together. Your father not dead a year, God save his soul, and you decide to take on the most relevant issue of the day." Ector reached across the gap Arthur had put between them and patted his shoulder. "I've always wanted my son to have a brother. Never befriended a soul outside of that servant of his. You're good for him."

"Kay's a godsend," Arthur said truthfully, looking over Ector's shoulder to where his son waited in the doorway, arms crossed across his chest. Wart was lurking right behind him, and with his long frame, his dark features, he looked just like a shadow. Arthur smiled at Kay, who smiled back timidly. "None of this could have happened without him."

And Ector spun and smiled at his son, clapping him on the back, and suddenly Arthur felt dizzy and sick at the sight of the easy interaction between father and son. He'd never have that again. He was an orphan. An old orphan.

"Good lad," Ector was saying as Arthur slipped past him into the hall. He stood with Wart at the entrance, watching the exchange, and both had a look of longing smeared all over their faces. "I knew you'd do well here. Just knew it."

"I never knew my father," Wart said quietly, so only the king could hear him. "I wonder what he'd think of me if he saw what I've become."

Arthur turned to him, and Wart refused to meet his eyes. The man who used to be so brazen, used to talk over his master, used to let everyone know his opinion, had been cowed by a monstrous experience. "You are more than what's happened to you. I will not say to forget your ordeal, but do not let it define your life." Arthur sighed and leaned against the doorway. Ector was spreading out his hands and Kay looked amused in a way he hadn't since before Wart and Merlin had been nearly sold into slavery. "Kay is trying. I'm trying. Soon, it may be possible for you to do much with your life."

"Even though I'm just a servant?" Wart asked quietly, folding his arms across his chest. There were still rope marks on his wrists, white scars that would never truly fade. "I like my life, sire. I am happy to serve Kay. Until the day I die."

Arthur had to leave then, because at that moment the raven-haired man reminded him of another raven-haired man, and he needed to see Merlin to be reminded that throwing his kingdom into chaos was the right decision.

.***.

"Redwall has declared war against the crown, and Hogarth and Paxwell will ally with him. We're being attacked from the North and West. Even the smaller villages are up in arms."

"People like their slaves," Merlin said, moving over to the fireplace. Freddie had let the fires go out again. The burn on Merlin's arm twinged at the thought. Even though Calder the Cruel had been dismissed, there was always the possibility, the lingering doubt that everything would eventually return to how it had been.

"I can't imagine how anyone is so vehemently against this action."

"People are stuck in their ways."

Arthur looked up from the missive he was reading and glared in Merlin's direction. "Are you saying something over there?" He watched as Merlin threw another log onto the fire, nearly burning himself in the process. His clumsy servant should never be allowed near flames.

"I'm just saying that the people will be...people." Merlin straightened, sighed. "It will take time, Arthur, to convince them that this needs to be done. Slavery is abhorrent." He shuddered, and Arthur didn't notice.

"I understand that, but maybe it's...too much. My father -"

Merlin turned around, exasperated. "You're father wasn't a very kind king, Arthur. He slaughtered thousands of people in the Great Purge. He brutally enforced laws that condoned the killing of servants and slaves. You have a chance to be better."

Arthur knew that, he knew that his father hadn't been a good or kind man. He'd been hard-pressed to receive a kind word from him, and he was the son. But after seeing Kay and his father, after reflecting on the fact that he was alone, all alone...well, he'd still been his father, and Arthur had loved him in the stupid way a kicked puppy still follows his master. And so he rounded on his best friend, drawing himself up to his full height and throwing up his arm so that Merlin, surprised by the sudden change, shrank back against the table, surprised.

They stood in that position for a moment, and Arthur felt a sick satisfaction (that he would feel so guilty about later but could never deny) at seeing how Merlin's eyes went to his upraised arm, at seeing the flicker of fear there. Merlin was smaller than Arthur, and hadn't been trained in combat since birth. He wouldn't stand a chance in a physical fight.

"What would you know, Merlin. You're just a servant." He didn't meant the words, not at all, but he threw them out anyway because he knew they would wound. Merlin's face rippled with betrayal as his station was thrown in his face by someone he trusted.

"You can't do that Arthur." Merlin said, scurrying out of the corner he'd been backed into and moving to the center of the room, where he stood tall and defiant. "You can't draft laws in defence of slaves and servants and then...I'm more than just a servant, Arthur. You're the one who told me that. You're the one who's trying to make everyone understand that. You can't just acknowledge those truths when it's convenient for you and then claim I can't understand when you wish. That's not how a friendship works."

Arthur gripped the table hard, and guilt spread out through the anger like a drop of vinegar spreads through oil. The anger that had come over him so quickly left and he felt drawn and tired, the way he had since putting on the crown that was at times so heavy he might as well be Atlas holding up the world. "Merlin...I..."

It was only then that Merlin allowed one hand to come up to his face and brush away the tears there impatiently, and that sent a stab through Arthur's heart. After everything Merlin had been through, after everything Arthur had done to prevent such bigotry, how could he dare use Merlin's station as an argument? "I'm sorry." Arthur said, the words feeling inadequit on his tongue.

"Don't," Merlin said, his voice shaking. He drew in a deep breath and moved around Arthur, eyes darting to his hand (oh, god, had he come close to hitting merlin? his merlin? even as boy, watching the way his father and calder the cruel treated servants, arthur had sworn on everything he held dear that he would be a better man. and look at him now.) "I...I need to help Gaius, sire."

"Merlin!" Arthur called. But he was already gone.

.***.

That night was the feast. Isn't that how it always was for Arthur? Bad timing all around. He sat between Kay and Leon at the head of the long table where all the council members had seats of honor. They were taking a grave risk with the two controversial laws that were being passed this evening: one to end the lave trade, effective immediately, the other to give higher wages to servants and forbid capital punishment for petty offences. There would be war over this. It was already brewing.

But this evening was a celebration, and everyone in Camelot was congratulating themselves. Two small serving girls, no older than ten, came up to the king stammering their thanks. One girl said that she'd already received her higher wage, and was planning on getting a new blanket. Arthur wondered how his father and the kings of the past had ignored such blatant destitution within their own walls. He wondered how he had ignored it, until Merlin had pointed out the flaws in the system.

Merlin...Merlin was in the corner with Wart, each holding a pitcher of wine to top off the noble's glasses. Before the feast, Arthur had thought that Merlin would sit next at the table, that Wart would, too. They were the reasons for one of the laws being passed. They deserved a place of honor. But since yelling at Merlin early since (nearly hitting him, oh god, he still couldn't believe he'd raised a hand to clumsy, loyal merlin) he hadn't had a chance to talk to his servant.

Kay had picked up on the king's mood. He, too, was muted, not taking part in the festivities as the others were. Arthur had confided his transgression to him before the feast, and Kay had stared at him, disappointment evident all over his face. And that made Arthur feel worse than ever. Since Kay's arrival, he'd tried to impress the older man, even going so far as to read Cicero to keep up with Kay's impassioned speeches. He hung on Kay's every word, sometimes imagining that he was acting in the way he would with an older brother. To see that brother's disappointment made Arthur feel like everything he held dear was coming apart at the seems.

He'd passed laws to help protect his people. Why, then, did he hurt those closest to him?

Speeches were made, honors given, wine drunk. Wart came over and whispered something in Kay's ear that made the other man laugh so loudly everyone stared at him, and Arthur wished Merlin, who was also smirking, would share the joke. But he'd broken a bond of trust that had always been between them. Broken it, and had no idea how it was to be repaired.

The entire feast Arthur was on edge, and his laugh was too loud, his voice was too hearty. No one noticed except Leon, who kept looking at him, forehead wrinkled, and Kay, of course, who ignored Arthur throughout most of the meal. Arthur felt like he was drowning, and for the first time since Merlin came to Camelot he felt alone in sea of people.

.***.

"You cabbage head." An affectionate voice came from the doorway, and Arthur stopped trying to tug his chainmail off with one hand. Small, deft fingers untied knots and lifted belts.

"Merlin!" Arthur almost yelped, then leapt immediately into the apology he'd been thinking all through the feast. "I - you should know I don't think of you as just a servant. You're amazingly loyal, and brave. You're my best friend."

A small ripple of laughter, and Arthur was free from the chain mail and could turn, could face Merlin. "You're laughing." He said, dumbly. "I don't understand."

Merlin shook his head, still smiling that smile that always made Arthur grin in return. "You've never had true friends before, have you Arthur? You have a row and then you forgive each other. That's how it works."

"I - but I almost hit you! And I said terrible things!"

Merlin frowned, "Yeah. But the best part about a row is that you get to bring it up later. I can make you feel guilty for months." The frown deepened, and Merlin looked down. "You scared me. I...after the slavers, I've been thinking awful things. About how useless I am, how I'm nothing more than a servant. When you said those things, I thought that they must be true if you believed it too."

"Merlin!" Arthur straightened up, "Nothing could be further from the truth! I was angry, and said what I thought would most hurt you. And I apologize." Arthur touched Merlin's shoulder carefully. Since the slavers Merlin had a tendency to jump at unexpected touches, but he didn't now. "And you are not useless. You are far, far more than a servant. You're best friend to a king. That has to be written down in the history books somewhere."

"You think?" Merlin asked, surprised.

"Of course," Arthur said, "I can see it now: The Epic of King Arthur and Merlin. It has to be true. Our friendship is the stuff of legends."

**.***.**

**the end.**

**thank you to everyone who reviewed. we still cannot believe how many people liked this story that has nothing to do with magic. a story that borrows heavily from The Once and Future King and not the show. thank you, thank you for your support. this would not have gone past the first chapter without you. **

**ps: the last line is from a television show. if anyone can name it, you get our undying respect.**


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